“Oh, little did he dream who it was that sat and watched him until it grew dark, and all was still in the dear old nest which was once my home. When I could no longer see him and knew that he was asleep, I said good-by to him forever, and flew away to the palm-tree; where I staid till morning, and then I started down the river, caring nothing where I went or what became of me, and feeling an indescribable longing for the cage I had quitted and the little mistress I had left.
“It was then that I came suddenly upon Robin, who is living near Green Cove Spring, and who was both astonished and delighted to see me. My face must have told him that I knew the worst, for he only said:
“‘Poor little Reddie, it is rather hard, but it’s the way of the world. I s’pose you didn’t see your own children. One of them is dead, and the others are far up the river, near Enterprise, with families of their own, and as likely birds as you could wish to see. They think you dead, and so does Mr. Red, of course.’
“Both Robin and Motherdy were very kind to me, and I staid with them all that day and night, and they brought me my supper and tried to cheer me up, but nothing can ever make me happy again unless it be to find myself in the cage once more, with Florence and Johnnie to pet me. But even that pleasure is denied me, for when I left Robin I went back to Jacksonville and the hotel, hoping to find my mistress. But she had gone down by the sea, and it is a long way there, and I might get lost, and not find her after all, so I have given it up, and what I shall do with myself now I am sure I don’t know.”
“Do?” repeated the Paroquet, who began to evince a friendliness I had not given him credit for. “Why, make the best of it, of course, and if you are so anxious to find Black-Eyes and Bright-Hair again, go over to St. Augustine after them. It is not so very far: I’ve been there. I know the way. I’ll go with you and start now, to-day, if you like. It’s up the river a ways, and then across the wildest, swampiest piece of country you ever saw. But St. Augustine is lovely—some like that North you are so delighted with, and maybe you will make up your mind to stay there if you do not find the children.”
“And I almost know I shall not,” returned Mrs. Red, who seemed to be quite discouraged, “for how shall I know where to look for them?”
“Look! Why, look everywhere, at all the hotels and boarding-houses, but mostly at the Old Fort and in a square they call the Plaza. Children all like to play there. We shall find them, don’t you fear, so come; it is getting almost noon, and we ought to be off. We will fly across the river first, and then hunt a bug or two for dinner, before we start again, so here goes.” And spreading his beautiful green wings, the Paroquet flew swiftly away, followed by Mrs. Red, who moved more slowly, for she was tired, and had not much heart or courage left.
I was half afraid she would drop into the water, but the Paroquet evidently encouraged her to exert herself as much as possible, and at last I was glad to see that they were fairly over the river, and resting on a live-oak tree. Then I started as from a dream, and wondered if it were really true that I had heard birds talk together, and if poor Reddie would ever find Florence and Johnnie again, and be happy once more. I hoped she would, and that I might know it; and I did, for when the spring came, and, with many other travelers, I started for home on the City of Savannah, I noticed upon the boat two lovely children, a boy and girl, one with beautiful black eyes, and the other with eyes as blue as the April sky over our heads. Fornce the little boy called his sister, and then I guessed at once I had found Black-Eyes and Bright-Hair, and remembering Mrs. Red I said to the little girl one day:
“Isn’t your name Florence and your brother’s name Johnnie, and don’t you live in Chicago?”
“Why, yes,” she answered, looking curiously at me. “How did you know that?”